


Steven Gets Conga'd

by mosu_mosu



Category: Porcupine Tree
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 04:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21068471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosu_mosu/pseuds/mosu_mosu
Summary: Chris and Steve sneak off for some fun after their Nearfest performance.





	Steven Gets Conga'd

Steven flashed delicate black fingernails as he ran his hand through his hair, shooting a welcome gaze back to Chris as they left the stage. Chris almost didn't notice the look in his eyes; the gentle arch of Steven's back he'd been looking at for the past couple hours still gripped his attention. The baggy cargo pants Steven was wearing were perched so precariously on his hips that Chris could take them off with a single swipe of his hand -- and god did he want to. The hem of Steven's black shirt was awkwardly high, or rather disappointingly low, overshooting the dip in his waist. This little ensemble revealed some of the nicest parts of the smaller man's body, though, like the clean pale skin of his taut belly and the sharpness of his hip bones. The sheer frailty of his body was on display for everyone in the audience, but only Chris was going to have the privilege of testing it. All of it was decidedly  _ for him,  _ painted nails and soft hair and cherry red guitar, and he relished the feeling.

Chris spiralled into his head thinking about Steven, hypnotized by the gentle sway in his hips, blindly tailing him. Before he knew it they were in the back of the tour bus, Steven's hands loosely pinning Chris to the wall. Steven was looking at him through heavy lids and that peaceful little smile, all teeth and loosely parted lips.

"Think I heard you slacking at the end of Russia, babe," Steven cooed. "You're gonna have to convince me you're not losing your rhythm." He punctuated this with a loose grab of Chris's hip, pulling it a little closer to his own.

Chris took a deep breath, staring into Steven's gleaming blue eyes, so exhausted but so ready for more. "Too bloody much sometimes," he remarked under his breath. He freed his broad, meaty hand and slapped it against Steven's ass in front of him, the thick jean fabric muffling the force of his blow. Steven keened into him, chest touching chest, and breathed hot into his neck. 

Chris forcefully yanked down Steven's pants and underwear in one fell swoop, his craving nearly satisfied. His hand ran over pleasant, creamy skin, from the tops of Steven's thighs, over his soft round ass, and up to his warm, bare back. He could feel Steven's body buzzing with anticipation at his touch.

Steven breathed in sharply as Chris touched a finger to his hole inquisitively, circling it around the entrance. Steven's hands wrung his lover’s shoulders and he let out a little begging whimper, pushing against the intrusion. Chris's other hand started to pull up the smaller man's shirt, and his tiny body writhed between the two points. He was now powerless in his drummer's hands, and his eyes grew heavy with hunger as he pulled away to look at Chris as he pulled off the tight shirt. His little round glasses got pushed askew, and he looked more debauched than ever -- and the fun was only beginning.

Steven detached himself from Chris and stood quietly for a moment. The thin layer of sweat on his naked body glistened in the dim lights around him, and deep breaths made waves through his tiny frame.

He turned around and Chris wrapped his arms around him, pulling him forcefully backwards. His ass rubbed hard against Chris's bulge, and a firm hand came to his throat. Chris's other hand moved down to Steven's aching cock, his calloused hand wrapping around it and giving a gentle tug. Steven moaned, pressing back further, and his eyes rolled up for a moment in pleasure as the hand around his neck briefly gripped tighter.

"Please," Steven groaned, feeling so strung out.

Chris roughly shoved him off, then wrapped a single hand around the tiny man's wrist, yanking him over to the couch. Chris shuffled off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and reached underneath the couch to pull out a duffel bag. He retrieved his supplies from the bag as Steven got on all fours, his hands on top of the back of the couch. Chris returned his fingers, now coated in lube, to Steven's hole, and started pushing in slowly. 

Steven's jaw dropped, the feeling impossibly good, and he shoved himself down onto the thick digits. Chris's fingers shifted around inside, and a loud moan erupted out of Steven when he found the right spot. 

"Good boy," Chris whispered into Steven's ear, his breath heavy on the smaller man's cool skin. "So fucking good for me."

"I love you," Steven choked out. Chris replied by burying a kiss deep into the crook of his neck and pushing his fingers as deep as he could before pulling them all the way out.

Steven barely had a moment to breathe before Chris was behind him, quickly rolling on a condom but then pushing inside slowly and firmly. 

His cock was as firm and heavy as his hands, more than enough for Steven's body to handle, and Steven's mind started drowning in the sensation. There was just enough of a stretching feeling for Steven to get lost in it, not harsh enough for him to beg Chris to stop. He was left eyes open, biting his lip hard, and barely breathing as he focused on taking it in, his own cock dripping and neglected beneath him. 

Chris reached under his tiny boyfriend, the other hand on his ass, and wanked him as his own hips sharply pulled out and slammed in. Steven squirmed with pleasure, panting and pushing back harder with every thrust. Chris put both of his hands on his ass and squeezed hard, leaving red marks in the scant extra flesh before outright slapping a cheek. A bright red blush bloomed over the site of the blow, and Steven spread his knees apart to ease his pain and to take Chris deeper. 

Before long, Chris slowed slightly before pulling out. He took Steven’s body in his arms and rolled him onto his back, propping his hips back up to insert himself back in. Steven smiled softly, his arms draping over the larger man’s shoulders and hands folding in mid-air. Chris kissed his lover, whose lips were now slightly chapped from the harsh breaths that had been coursing through it. Steven basked in the moment of relief before Chris lifted him. Suddenly, Steven had to cling onto Chris’s shoulders, and his heart raced.

Chris took Steven’s hips and thrust into him, the impact bouncing Steven off and pushing him back down again. Steven felt helpless yet so fucking pleased, his body getting used roughly. Chris could grab him, mutilate him, rip him limb from limb, and he’d beg for it all the while. Steven wanted to be loved and wanted so badly, and made himself in the more sanguine man’s image. The doll of a man, dangling from his arms, was loosening the valve of his perfectionism, relinquishing control, finally feeling good, unquestioning, unwanting, unfathomably satisfied as their orgasms crashed upon them in waves. The quiet little man Chris met behind a soft curtain of hair was now undeniably his, and neither of them cared who could tell.

Speaking of which.

As Chris laid his exhausted lover back onto the couch, he looked aside briefly to notice a tall figure in the edge of his vision, then froze, and Steven craned his neck to look.

Richard stood at the entrance of the tour bus, sipping from a bottle of water as he blinked at the scene in front of him. He smirked coolly, leaning to one side, making solid eye contact with Steven as Chris’s solid body arched over his. He turned on the ball of his foot and paced down the bus steps, waving to someone outside, disappearing into the night.

Steven bit his lip as Chris turned his dumbfounded stare back to him.


End file.
